


(that much) closer

by Arithra



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, It's Sylvain's fault, M/M, Pining, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), White Heron Cup (Fire Emblem), dancer!felix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24615625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithra/pseuds/Arithra
Summary: Felix is the Blue Lion's representative for the White Heron Cup. Dimitri admires his performance even after it is over.--Felix, Dimitri noted rather detachedly, was stunning. In the middle of the ballroom his childhood friend spun and twisted, sword in hand and with a grace that made him look like something out of the world. His dark hair flew through the air behind him, with every twist and turn. For once it was not in the bun at the back of his head, instead it was mostly undone. It gleamed and shimmered under the light of the chandeliers.He wanted to touch it.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 28
Kudos: 118





	(that much) closer

**Author's Note:**

> This went into a different direction than I had intended when I started it, but I think it's better this way. Thanks go to @Artemsi_ for the beta!

Felix, Dimitri noted rather detachedly, was stunning. In the middle of the ballroom his childhood friend spun and twisted, sword in hand and with a grace that made him look like something out of the world. His dark hair flew through the air behind him, with every twist and turn. For once it was not in the bun at the back of his head, instead it was mostly undone. It gleamed and shimmered under the light of the chandeliers. 

He wanted to touch it. 

Dimitri didn’t know where the sudden desire came from, but he knew Felix would not appreciate it. But on his lap his fingers clenched all the same as he thought about how it would feel to run them through the dark hair, how it would feel between his fingers. Would it be as soft as it looked? It was wavier than Dimitri had expected, not like Rodrigue's, or Glenn’s but rather like that of a Lady with an unreadable smile he had once seen in a portrait in castle Fraldarius. 

He had not seen Felix’s hair unbound in a long time. The sight of it, falling down past his shoulders and only partly held back by one of Annette’s hair clips, had unsettled him from the moment Felix had stepped atop the stage. 

The contrast of the golden hairclip and the dark hair was startling, eye catching, enchanting even. With each turn of Felix’s body, the hair swayed and spun, the sparkled and blinked. 

It wasn’t only Felix's hair and clip that shone, but also his uniform. Under the lights of the chandeliers, the bangles and chains seemed to come alive, gleaming alongside the sharp edge of Felix’s sword. 

The professor had given Felix the uniform, Dimitri knew, there was nothing special about it. Except for the colors it was the same one that Ferdinand and Hilda were wearing. Yet, somehow on Felix it seemed different.

Maybe it was the colors. The sharp contrast between the paleness of Felix’s skin, the dark silkiness of his hair, and the gold and blue of his uniform.

In the center of the hall, Felix went through another spin, the skirts flaring around him. The blue part of the skirt wrapped around his legs and hips as he abruptly changed direction, sword and gold gleaming.

It had to be the color. It was the color of the Blue Lion House. In parts, the same blue as Dimitri’s cape. Blaiddyd blue. It had been a long time since Dimitri had seen Felix in his shade of blue. 

(The last time had been the night before they set out for Duscur. They had curled up together despite their age and the disapproval, and Dimitri had promised him to bring him a souvenir and tell him all about his visit. He didn’t. He hadn’t. But that night Felix’s dark hair, shorter than it was now, had spilled all across his blue pillows.)

The dance ended, and Felix smoothly went down into the traditional bow, sword held in salute. Dimitri was sitting close enough to the stage to see some of the dark hair stick to his sweaty neck. Could see Felix breathe just a bit harder from exertion. With each breath, in and out, the bangles of his uniform shimmered in the light.

Almost in a trance, his gauntleted fingers clenching, Dimitri’s gaze followed Felix’s fingers as he pushed one of the loose strands behind his ear. 

It was Sylvain’s laughter next to him that brought him out of his daze.

“Well, what do you say, Ingrid?” their friend teased, “Who would have guessed our grumpy Felix could dance like that?”

Ingrid hummed in agreement, while Ashe chimed in enthusiastically. “He is very graceful with his sword, so it shouldn’t be that surprising.”

Sylvain laughed again, “True, I just did not expect him to actually come and perform.”

“I think,” Annette said, “That the professor promised to spar with him everyday for the next week.”

All of them laughed at that, and even Dedue to Dimitri’s left huffed a short laugh.

Dimitri did not look in their direction, his gaze still — politely — on the stage. He found himself swallowing as he gathered himself. 

On the stage Hilda and Ferdinand had stepped up next to Felix. They were dressed in red and light pink, and in contrast to them Felix appeared even more striking in the royal blue garments. Ferdinand greeted Felix with a half bow and proceeded to talk to him, his hands moving enthusiastically, while Hilda stood next to him, smiling mischievously and swaying where she stood, the soft fabric moving around her. 

The judges were still deliberating, and conversations were breaking out all over the room. Only when Alois stepped forward, Professor Manuela and Shamir behind him, did the students calm down. 

Alois gave a short speech, but Dimitri did not listen to a word of it, his gaze still fixed on the house representatives. Hilda was bouncing where she stood, Ferdinand had puffed up his chest in pride, and Felix… Felix had his arms crossed over his chest, looking like he wanted the spectacle to be over. 

Maybe, Dimitri mused, Felix wanted to clean up. The sweat clinging to him from the exertion could not be comfortable. Felix would have to take off all the bangles. Unwrap the cloth and unlace the sandals he wore, before getting into the bath. Dimitri could almost imagine it. He swallowed.

Then Alois’s voice boomed through the hall. “And the winner of this year's White Heron Cup is--” the whole hall seemed to hold its breath ”The Blue Lion house!”

The other judges said more, but it got lost under the roar of the applause. 

Next to him, Sylvain whooped, and the rest of his classmates cheered. Dimitri, too, joined in on the applause. On the stage, Felix himself looked surprised. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose, mumbling something that Dimitri could not hear, but read from his lips well enough.  _ Nonsense _ .

Ferdiand’s hand landed on Felix's sweaty shoulder, squeezing it in congratulations, and Hilda swept him in a short hug. Dimitri knew from their childhood games as children what that might feel like. The stickiness of sweat that came from physical exertion. It was terribly improper and unreasonable that he suddenly missed it. 

“Felix won.” Sylvain laughed and bumped his shoulder against Dimitri’s. Dimitri chuckled, but there was no true emotion behind it. To him the result seemed reasonable. Felix’s dance had been the most impressive by far. Felix was always elegant, all lethal beauty and sharp grace, stunning and beautiful like a naked blade in moonlight. 

(He had also always been the best dancer among them. When they were children and Dimitri had learned dancing from El, he had been eager to share it with the rest of his friends. Only Felix had seemed to enjoy it and never minded when Dimitri stepped on his toes when they practised. Instead he had cheerfully smiled up at him the whole time, looking perfectly happy where he was. He always thanked Dimitri with a kiss on the cheek afterwards. It was what they had seen other people do. Though by the time they figured out that that had nothing to do with the dancing, their lessons had already stopped.)

As soon as the teachers opened the floor, most of his classmates rushed towards Felix who took their congratulations with surprising grace. Dimitri took half a step towards them as well before he stopped. Felix would not welcome his presence. He stepped back and when he chanced a glance back over his shoulder at Felix, he thought for a moment that the other was watching him leave. Dimitri put it aside as wishful thinking.

\--

It was not the last of Felix’s dancing career in the academy, despite what Dimitri might have believed at first. From the look on his face Felix had thought the same. They should have both known better, they had heard the stories as children after all. The winner of the dance contest had to open the end of the year ball with their house leader.

There was no way around it, and Dimitri was sure Felix had tried. So when the day came and their class walked towards the reception hall where the dance would take place, Felix was in a terrible mood. He had even snapped at Annette when she had tried to cheer him up. Annette was one of the few people who was generally spared Felix’s sharp tongue.

Dimitri had not been able to shake the image of Felix in the dancer uniform from his mind. Last evening, when they had been eating together in the dining hall, Dimitri had found himself imagining how Felix would look the next day. He had been stunning that evening of the dance competition, but he was sure that Felix would not consent to wearing the full getup again. His hair would either be in his usual bun, with a couple of hairs sticking out, and sticking to his skin after he exerted himself, like it was during battle, or maybe in the high ponytail Dimitri had once spotted him wearing on his way back from the bath. 

Either would look great, but Dimitri had hoped for the ponytail, or even unbound… That way there would have been a chance that he could have touched it. The dance was a formal one, and it required a certain closeness that Dimitri and Felix had not shared outside of battle in years. The touch would be accidental of course, Dimitri would not dare otherwise, but he could imagine it quite clearly. His hand on Felix’s back and the hair brushing over the back of his hand. The texture eluded him. Would it be soft and silky? Would it be cool to the touch? Rough with lack of care? No, not that, Dimitri had decided, Felix always took care of his hair. He had touched Felix’s hair as a child, back before Duscur, but the sense memory eluded him. It kept him up that night. And he knew it was foolish. He would be wearing his gauntlets tomorrow. Even if Felix had his hair loose, there was no way he would feel it. Dimitri did not dare to imagine Felix’s reaction should he take off his gloves before their dance. 

To Dimitri’s – thankfully private and not voiced out loud – disappointment Felix was not wearing the dancer uniform he had been given, and, if Sylvain was right, had been instructed to keep. Knowing the professor, Felix would likely find himself on the battlefield as a dancer, though, knowing Felix, not wearing the uniform. And he was wearing his hair in the usual bun as well, though it looked like he had put more care into constructing it as no hair stuck out of it. He also used a new hair tie. A wider ribbon than usual, in the colors of house Fraldarius. The ends hung down at the back of his neck, and Dimitri was surprised by the realization that it was a decorative ribbon. When the light caught on in, some gold threats glittered. 

The reception hall was already full with students and Dimitri easily identified Felix’s mounting frustration at his inability to find the professor. Byleth had instructed them to meet her before the ball so they could be put into position for the opening dance. Her whole manner about the event had been no nonsense, and her instructions had rung just like the ones she gave them in the field. Dimitri had noticed that Felix reacted well to such instructions, but bristled when Dimitri made polite suggestions, which made him wonder if –

He spotted the professor from the corner of his eye. She was with her father whose large frame made him easy to pick out in the crowd. “Felix.” he called, but went unheard in the din of the crowded hall.

Without thinking, he reached out and put his hand on Felix’s shoulder. The other spun, eyes flashing in irritation. The long ribbon spun with the movement. Just as Felix’s hair had when he danced. Dimitri saw it grazing his gauntlet. 

“I spotted the professor.” The words spilled from Dimitri’s mouth automatically, and Felix’s irritation did not disappear, but seemed less at the forefront now.

“Where?” Felix asked, and once Dimitri indicated the direction, he stomped off. The crowd parted for him as if Felix had taken his sword and cut through. Dimitri followed, and in his gauntlet his hand tingled from a touch that didn’t happen.

\--

As they stepped into the empty space at the center of the floor, Dimitri leading Felix by the arm, Dimitri knew before the orchestra started playing that this would be a very special kind of dance. Different from any other he had ever had before. After all, none of his dancing partners had ever glared at him the way Felix was doing. (Not even El when he almost broke her toes.)

They got into position. One arm to the side, Felix’s hand cradled in his. Felix’s other hand came to rest on his shoulder, and he could feel the warmth of that touch through his uniform jacket. Dimitri put his other hand on Felix’s waist, and not for the first time thought about taking off the gauntlets. Unintentionally, he squeezed a bit tighter.

He had not expected Felix’s hand to squeeze his shoulder in return, nor had he expected the other to meet his gaze. Uncharacteristically, Felix did not look away immediately after the eye contact. He held Dimitri’s gaze. There was a look in his eyes that Dimitri couldn’t place, and it rattled him enough that he missed the cue to start the dance. 

Felix didn’t. His hand on Dimitri’s shoulder tightened again, and he stepped backwards, pulling Dimitri along. They started the dance. Felix led. 

Dancing was a lot easier when Dimitri wasn’t the one leading. Felix led and Dimitri followed. The music swelled, but he paid no attention to the rhythm of it. Instead it was the touch of Felix’s hand in his own (achingly familiar and nostalgic) tugging and pulling him along, the shift of his muscles under Dimitri’s hand, the grounding touch of the hand on his shoulder. 

Felix’s bangs swung with their movement, they turned, and the long strands - almost, almost - grazed Dimitri’s cheek. Felix gave a tug, and Dimitri followed. They spun, once, twice and a third time. They moved to the left and to the right. Felix pushed him back, but in the same movement he stepped closer, turned just so, and Dimitri’s hand slipped from Felix’s side to his back. Then Felix bent backwards.

They were halfway through the movement when Dimitri realized he had almost messed it up. He faltered minutely, but Felix’s weight on his arm was enough to make him follow through the movement. Felix’s eyebrow rose and Dimitri could read the question in his eyes easily. Dimitri’s lips curved just slightly, and then he pulled Felix and himself upright. Felix’s hand uncurled from his shoulder and he stepped back. They turned away from each other, their hands still interlinked. 

The music stopped and applause replaced it. Alois' voice rang out over the din, but Dimitri did not really hear it. Felix’s hand fell from his and Dimitri lowered his arm. The music started up again, another tune, and couples swarmed the dance floor. Felix looked at him for a moment, but then he turned away. A strand of his hair had come loose from his bun. Dimitri wanted to reach for it and tug it behind Felix’s ear, but the distance between them seemed even more insurmountable than before. 

Felix walked away. They had not exchanged a single word. 

\--

Dimitri managed to escape the ball eventually. He had a short conversation with the professor, but despite his best efforts he could not find Edelgard. He had hoped to invite her to dance, and maybe he could have finally, finally talked to her about what had happened all those years ago, but she was nowhere to be found. 

It left Dimitri wandering the monastery grounds on his own. The experience was strangely calming and Dimitri felt some of the tension that had built up over the seemingly endless dances fade away. None of the dances had been as easy and comfortable as the first one. Even that one dance a tipsy Sylvain had goaded him into – and taken the lead in – had not been as engaging as his dance with Felix. 

During the whole evening Dimitri had spotted Felix only three times after their dance. Twice when he swept past Dimitri on the dancefloor with Annette and Mercedes. Both times Felix had been leading, and once at the buffet with Ingrid. For the last hour, he had not seen Felix at all.

Dimitri moved across the bridge towards the cathedral. The wind was blowing so that he could still make out the sounds of merriment in the reception hall and the sound of the orchestra playing. The music played now was much less formal, and he was glad that he would not have to dance to it. 

The cathedral was still lit up; he could not make out any people inside through the still open doors. He walked past the entrance along the balcony. The wind that blew was comfortably cool on his face. The year was coming to its end: it was getting colder and it reminded him of home. Dimitri made his way towards the northernmost balcony. The sound of giggling reached him and he curiously turned to the direction it was coming from.

The goddess tower. Rocking back on his heels, Dimitri considered it. He was well aware of the presumed legend surrounding the tower, and he could only imagine what the current visitors were doing. And Dimitri truly had no interest in interrupting anyone. 

Just as he made to turn away from the tower to find another place to think, he caught movement at the bottom door of the goddess tower. The figure wasn’t very tall, but moved with a languid sort of grace that was familiar, yet not. DImitri furrowed his brow and turned back to study the figure. Whoever they were, they were alone.

More giggling. Dimitri’s gaze flickered upwards to the upper terrace and back to the figure who was walking in his direction. Maybe they were retreating as well, after unwittingly stumbling over a couple? Then the person stepped from the shadow of the tower and into the moonlight and Dimitri’s eyes widened slightly. 

“Felix?” he said in surprise. Felix—because the figure really was Felix—turned towards him. His hair was no longer in his customary bun, instead someone had loosely braided it along the side and finished it off with a fancy bow that rested on his shoulder. The hairstyle softened the sharp lines of Felix’s face, or maybe that was the moonlight.

Felix hummed and tilted his head to the side, studying Dimitri intently. Recognizing that Felix could probably not make out who he was talking to, Dimitri stepped out from the shadow of the wall. “Ah. It’s me.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and braced for Felix’s retort.

But no sharp retort followed. Instead, Felix shrugged, a rolling movement of his shoulders that drew Dimitri’s eyes to the long column of his neck. Bare for once. Felix’s collar was gaping open. “I know.” Felix said, and Dimitri needed a second to understand what Felix was referring to. Thankfully, Felix elaborated, “I recognized your voice.” 

From the way Felix said those words, Dimitri got the impression that Felix had expected him to know that. Dimitri did not know what to say. “I see,” was what he eventually settled on.

Felix continued his track towards Dimitri. Probably to make his way back to the dormitories. It was getting late, and no one would mind if Felix did not return to the ball. But instead of turning to walk towards the bridge, Felix walked towards Dimitri. His movements were as smooth and elegant as always, but for once there was a languid grace and looseness to them that Dimitri had not seen before. Keen amber eyes tracked up and down Dimitri’s form, and he felt like a predator was seizing him up to decide if he was prey.

The thought was ridiculous of course, but Dimitri’s hands tightened regardless. He could not tear his gaze away from the slightly curl of Felix’s lip and the way he moved his head as he appraised Dimitri.

“Ah,” eventually, Dimitri could no longer hold back the need to say something. Felix’s lips twitched again: he seemed pleased, and Dimitri cleared his throat. “What are you doing here, Felix?”

Felix paused in his approach and made to cross his arms in front of his chest. Dimitri relaxed a little, suddenly in much more familiar territory. Only, he wasn’t. Felix’s attempt at folding his arms failed, and after the swordsman stared at his hands in consternation for a moment he put them on his hips. A pose Dimitri was much more used to seeing on Ingrid. 

Then Felix started walking towards him again, one of his hands going from his hip to the hilt of his sword. Dimitri’s eyes were drawn to the movement. It looked almost like a caress. Felix had long and elegant fingers. Earlier today they had rested in his own hand. On his shoulder. If not for the gauntlets he could have felt them skin to skin. Dimitri was sure they would have been slightly rough and calloused. Felix was nothing if not diligent in his training. Maybe they would have caught on his own. Dimitri swallowed.

“Mercedes and Annette wanted to check out the tower.” Felix said suddenly as he moved further towards Dimitri, who startled out of his trance. He had all but forgotten that he had asked a question. Felix continued. “They dragged me along.” There was a note to his voice that was familiar, although Dimitri could not place it. “But then they started giggling!” He looked at Dimitri, and Dimitri nodded, making Felix look faintly pleased. “So I left.”

“I see.” Dimitri said, and Felix nodded. The movement was just a bit too enthusiastic to be genuine. Eyebrows furrowing, Dimitri assessed his childhood friend. The loose and languid movement. The sudden expressiveness of his face that was usually masked by his frown. His willingness to engage Dimitri in conversation.

Felix was acting strange and the way he kept acting reminded him of that one time after—

The realisation came to him. “Are you drunk?” 

“Drunk?” Felix huffed. “I know better than to drink alcohol like that!” He gave Dimitri a look of censure, but before Dimitri could apologize, Felix continued. “Sylvain spiked the drinks.” Felix wrinkled his nose in an exaggerated expression, and attempted to cross his arms again, only to fail again. Dimitri was starting to feel slightly incredulous. He wondered if it was better to return Felix to his room. Even though he had no doubt that Felix could defend himself perfectly well even with his reflexes a bit slowed, it would not feel right to simply leave him like this. 

Hesitantly, he stepped closer. Felix turned to look at him, eyes wide and surprised, but he did not move back. Instead, Felix stepped closer, leaning towards him. The last time they had been this close together they had been dancing, and the time before that when Felix had slammed him into the ground with a rather vicious grappling move. Dimitri had been able to feel the shift of Felix’s muscles under his uniform as he had pinned him to the ground. He had been unable to break free of the hold without harming himself. Something that was inappropriate to do outside of a life and death struggle. He also remembered the way Felix’s lips had curled in pleasure at his victory. The way he had looked down at him with a smirk on his face and satisfaction dancing in his eyes. Dimitri had—

“Dimitri,” Dimitri’s heart nearly stopped at the sound of Felix saying his name. He watched as the lips shaped around the syllables. With sudden clarity, he recognized the tone of voice now. Plaintive. Felix was sounding plaintive. “Sylvain spiked all the drinks,” he drew out the words for emphasis, “Can you believe it?”

Internally still reeling, Dimitri nodded. “Yes,” he answered, “I can. It is Sylvain after all.”

Felix paused, considered that, then nodded. “True.” Felix agreed with a pout. Goddess, a pout. From Felix. Despite knowing that it likely would not end well for him, Dimitri felt his lips curl into a genuine smile. 

“You could have drank some water instead.”

Felix scoffed and shot him a look that Dimitri was much more familiar with these days. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Felix snapped, “As if I was going to back down from the challenge! Ha!” 

Dimitri chuckled. “Of course not,” he agreed. He did not point out that that was likely what Sylvain had been banking on. 

“Are you going to retire for the evening?” he inquired, “Or are you going to wait for Mercedes and Annette?” Felix had come here with them after all. Dimitri’s gaze flickered up to the goddess tower for a moment, but he could not spot any movement. He looked back towards Felix who was looking at him with a thoughtful look on his face, his lips once more pursed into an almost pout.

Dimitri swallowed. “Felix?”

Felix shrugged. “Yes.”

That was sadly not a clear answer. “You are going to wait?”

Felix gave an exaggerated eye roll. That was a no, Dimitri guessed, and he was right. 

“No, I’m not.” Felix informed him. “I’m going to bed.” he paused as if considering something. The focus of his eyes on Dimitri was intent, and Dimitri gave him an awkward smile. Felix scoffed and turned to walk away.

Dimitri smiled slightly as he watched him walk away.

“Goodnight, Felix. I hope you have nice dreams.”

Felix paused, and Dimitri wondered if Felix had sobered up enough that he would take offense at Dimitri’s presumed intimacy. He should have stuck with the simple goodnight wish. Felix even ignored that when he was sober as long as he was not already irritated. 

“Right.” Felix said suddenly and turned back towards Dimitri again, “I forgot something.”

Dimitri blinked at him. Felix hesitated for a moment where he was standing. Shifting his weight back and forth from his toes to his heels. Then he nodded. 

Dimitri had expected Felix to walk away without further comment, but to his surprise, the other boy walked over to him with quick steps, only stopping when he was right in front of him. Felix met his gaze for a moment. Then he reached towards Dimitri and put his hand on Dimitri’s shoulder as if to steady himself. 

Dimitri could feel the warmth of his hand even through the jacket of his uniform. Felix grabbed the edge of his cape and tugged him slightly down. Just like he had when they were dancing, Dimitri followed his lead. Felix leaned in and then Dimitri felt warm and dry lips pressed against his cheek.

Dimitri had just enough presence of mind to note that they were slightly chapped. The movement made Felix’s hair swing forward. Soft strands brushed along Dimitri’s face. He felt Felix breathe out through his nose, the air drifting along Dimitri’s cheek, before Felix stepped back again.

He looked Dimitri over and nodded, as if to himself. Dimitri stood frozen.

“There.” Felix sounded satisfied. “Thank you for the dance.”

And then he threw Dimitri a smile—an actual smile—and turned and walked away, swaying only slightly. As Felix reached the corner of the balcony that would lead him out of Dimitri’s sight, he paused again. This time he did not turn, but he raised his hand in a small wave. “Good night, Dimitri. Sweet dreams.” And he walked around the corner. 

Dimitri watched him go, his hand rising to cradle his cheek. It was the cold touch of the metal gauntlet that pulled him from his daze. Suddenly, the cold night air was no longer enough to cool his cheeks. Maybe, for once, his dreams would actually be sweet. 


End file.
